One Month
by Believe4Ever
Summary: The Doctor closed his eyes for a second then opened them, giving Sherlock another smile, though this one was softer and not as happy. "I'll explain it to you in one month."
1. Chapter 1

**This will be a two chapter story. For the Doctor it is set after the finale of season 5 but before the premiere of season 6 (so between S5E13 and S6E1) and for Sherlock it is Pre-Reichenbach.**

* * *

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were walking off toward the police station—Lestrade had texted Sherlock about a case regarding a Peter Ricoletti—when Sherlock suddenly stopped.

"Something the matter?" John asked, stopping as well. He followed his flat mate's gaze to find a group of three walking in their general direction.

The oldest man was wearing suspenders and a bow tie along with a coat with elbow pads. His hair was a little strange and he walked with a certain bounce in his step like a child excited to go to a candy store. The younger man had slightly spiked hair and an expression between confused and a 'why-are-we-here' look. At least he wore normal clothes. The girl looked to be the same age as the younger man, and she had beautiful red hair and, like the younger man, simple clothes.

That was what John Watson saw. However Sherlock had a deeper understanding of the three.

_The younger man is a nurse. He has seen many people die, but he has also saved a number of people. He is married to the young woman—their rings are obvious. The young woman is Scottish. I can hear her accent from all the way over here. Unemployed. However the man . . . He doesn't seem to have a real occupation. But not entirely 'unemployed' either; he obviously does work of some kind. He couldn't possibly be from here; not with that outfit._

It was about then that the man with the bow tie looked up and spotted the two of them. His eyes grew wider with recognition and his grin grew. He quickly led his group over towards them.

"You've been recognized," John muttered.

"What?" Sherlock answered, glancing at his shorter friend.

"That man. It's obvious he recognizes you. Probably from the papers."

"Sherlock Holmes!" this mysterious man cried, a grin across his face as he shook Sherlock's hand.

"Who's he?" John questioned, glancing at his flat mate.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "Not the foggiest." He drew his hand back away from him. "Would you mind explaining who you and your companions are?"

"Oh, yes!" the man exclaimed. "I am the Doctor, this is Amy, and this is Rory, her—"

"Husband."

The Doctor looked back and grinned. "Correct!"

"How did you know?" Amy asked. She shook her head. "Wait, that's probably a stupid question."

"Not stupid, merely ignorant," Sherlock answered. After a split second of consideration, he added, "Stupid as well." Amy's expression soured.

John glanced at Sherlock disapprovingly. "Um, yes, well, I'm John Watson." He put his hand out for no one in particular.

Rory took the hand—he never liked people to just stay hanging when waiting for a shake of a hand—but then looked at them all confused. "Excuse me, but how could this be Sherlock Holmes? Isn't he just a story?"

"Excuse me?" the detective muttered.

The Doctor cleared his throat, glancing at Rory. "Please don't, Rory. Spoilers."

"But it is!" Rory cried. "Sherlock Holmes is a character from stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle!"

"You're mad," John muttered. "All of you."

"No we're not. Sherlock Holmes is the one-and-only consulting detective and lives with John Watson. It's assumed they were in a romantic relationship."

"I'm not gay!" John shouted. Amy gave him a surprised look.

"That's proven later," Rory sighed.

"Rory." The Doctor's voice was in a warning tone.

"It's proven when John Watson marries Mary Morstan after helping her on her case to find her father."

"Wait, Mary who?" John interjected. Sherlock glanced at the three strange people.

"Rory." The Doctor's voice was increasing.

The nurse continued, "And then later Sherlock Holmes commits sui—"

"Rory!" All attention was drawn to the Doctor after his loud shout.

"What is this, Doctor?" Amy murmured.

"Yes, please, explain," John demanded.

The Doctor sighed and looked at Sherlock. Then he smiled wide. "We are fans of your work, Mr. Holmes. Rory here has often had dreams of what would happen later in your lives—he's a bit of a fangirl, really."

"I have not!" Rory protested.

"So anyway," the Doctor continued, "we are extremely excited to meet you in real person."

"I told you that you were getting famous," John muttered to his friend.

Sherlock stepped forward so he was face-to-face with the Doctor. "You're a very strange person, Doctor. You don't have a proper name, from what I've heard, your hair style is ridiculous for this time in age, and your entire outfit makes entirely no sense."

"What's wrong with my outfit?"

"You're wearing a coat with elbow patches, suspenders and a _bow tie _for God's sake."

"Bow ties are cool!"

"Hardly." He glanced him up and down. "And apart from that, you look no older than thirty-five, you have the attitude of an ADHD teenager and yet . . ." He peered into his eyes. "Your eyes suggest that you've seen such beauty in this world and such horror; so much that your lifespan couldn't possibly be sufficient in seeing all of it."

The Doctor's grin faltered for just a minute. "I assure you, that's not—"

"Aside from that peculiarity you have a strange device in your pocket, don't you?" Without even asking permission, Sherlock reached into the Doctor's coat and pulled out the sonic screwdriver. "A screwdriver if I've ever seen one except this one is a lot stranger for it has a button for some kind of use, and there are so many technological advancements thrown into one singular device." He clicked the button and the usual noise the sonic made started ringing into the air. All of a sudden Big Ben began to chime, although it wasn't even fifteen minutes past the hour. "My, now that's strange . . ." He fiddled with it and pointed it at the Doctor, clicking the button.

"Now don't do that!" the Doctor cried, snatching it away. "You can't just scan people for no reason; it wouldn't do any good anyway." He did the same thing to Sherlock. "See? Nothing. Now Rory." He put the screwdriver in Rory's hands and made him scan John. "Nothing."

"Stop that!" John barked, annoyed at the sound.

The Doctor sighed and looked back at the detective. "Sherlock—"

"And there's that." Sherlock looked hard at the Doctor. "Up until now you have treated me with respect, using Mr. Holmes, and yet all of a sudden you use my first name as if we are friends. Which, in fact, we aren't because I am positive that I have never set eyes on you in my life and I would prefer it if you would give me a straight answer as to who you are and where you came from because it is quite obvious that you are not from London, probably not even from England, although you have the correct accent." Sherlock's glare bore into the Doctor's eyes. "Tell me."

Amy's mouth was dropped at the speed in which Sherlock had spoken and how much he had been able to understand from just a couple minutes in his presence.

"Very well," the Doctor said. "I will tell you—in good time."

"No. Now."

"What day is it?"

"Pardon?" John said.

"What day is it? The year, the month, the day?"

"December seventeenth of 2011."

The Doctor closed his eyes for a second then opened them, giving Sherlock another smile, though this one was softer and not as happy. "I'll explain it to you in one month."

"I want an explanation now."

"One month. I promise." The Doctor turned. "All right! Amy? Rory? We're leaving!"

"Hey wait a minute, you haven't explained yourself!" John argued. But the Doctor had already started to walk away, his companions hurrying along with him.

Sherlock cleared his throat. "Doctor." The Doctor looked back, pausing for a moment. "One month?" The Doctor nodded. "Very well. Come, John. We still have to meet Lestrade about this case. This 'Peter Ricoletti' sounds intriguing." He turned in the opposite direction and continued walking toward the police station.

John looked reluctant, but after Sherlock called his name again, he ran off after him.

The Doctor wouldn't say anything more to Amy or Rory until they were in the TARDIS and away from London.

"Doctor, what was that?!" Amy demanded.

The Doctor glanced up at them. "You know of parallel universes, don't you Amy?"

"Yes . . . but you said that it wasn't possible to cross over to them."

"Well, a lot of stuff has happened, as you know. After all, Rory became a plastic robot and lived for two thousand years after you had died, then of course I had hopped through time without a TARDIS and died soon after because of the Dalek but then we all came back to life because the world was reset. We've been through far too much than we give ourselves credit for, especially the TARDIS. She became a human for goodness sake! So she must've been able to hop over to a universe that ran parallel to ours, if it ran parallel enough; sure enough, it did!" He laughed.

"That explains little, Doctor."

"Amy!" His hands clamped onto her shoulders. "We live next to a universe where Sherlock Holmes _exists! _It's astounding!"

"Doctor," Rory said cautiously. "You seemed to know him when we first met him, but he didn't know you . . . What was that about?"

Suddenly the Doctor's ecstatic atmosphere diminished and he stepped back. "One month."

"What?" the companions said in unison.

"I will explain to you in one month."

"So we're going in time one month from now?" Amy asked.

"No. We are literally waiting one month. No time skips; one month of our life span must pass before I can fully explain it to you."

"What kind of rubbish is that?"

"Amy. Please." He looked at her and she noticed the sad tinge in his eyes. "I'll explain it to you exactly one month. I promise."

The Scotswoman glanced at her husband who sighed and shrugged.

"Fine," she muttered. "One month. I'm counting the seconds."

* * *

**Please review with your opinion on how it is so far. This is my first Wholock fan fiction, so I hope it turned out all right…Please comment.**


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter is a lot longer than the last... Spoilers for season two of Sherlock in this chapter!**

* * *

"All right, where shall we go next?" the Doctor asked excitedly. He and the married couple had just finished inventing the Rubik's Cube, something that had been created just to puzzle a certain race for millennia to come, so they would be too distracted to try attacking earth again. It getting mass-produced was also a plus.

"What do you suggest, Doctor?" Amy asked, grinning as she leaned against the control panel of the TARDIS.

"We can go anywhere in the world!" he laughed, starting to walk around in his usual dance-like way. "We explore the stars, Amy Pond! Rory Pond!"

"The man keeps his last name!" Rory complained.

The Doctor grinned and twirled. "There are places you cannot imagine! And I know I told you that a lot but in fact _this time _there is _still _things you haven't seen! We can visit the planet made completely of water where you can even breathe underwater without a mask! Or perhaps we can visit the Vetschka race that had burrowed deep underneath Russia during World War Two!" He turned and faced the two of them, grinning like mad. "Or we can visit Red Eye Amusement Park: Happiest Place on Jupiter!"

With his smile still on his face, suddenly a tear pushed through his eye and trickled down his cheek. Amy glanced at her husband and back to the Doctor. "Doctor . . . You're crying."

"What?" His hand reached up and brushed the drop of salt water onto his hand, studying it. "Well . . . look at that . . . I am."

"Why are you crying? Aren't you happy?"

"I am . . ." He looked back at them, eyes moist. "I am happy. We just saved the world. But . . . there's something else . . . Here . . ."

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know. I just feel . . . a little sad . . . deep down."

"But that's ridiculous!" Rory exclaimed. "Why should you be feeling sad for no . . . reason . . ." His voice slowed and a numb look crossed his face.

"Rory?" Amy whispered, turning to her spouse. "What's going on with you?"

"I just . . . suddenly feel . . . different . . ." He let out a shaky breath and started to sink to the floor. Amy grabbed his arm and helped him to the ground. "Doctor, what's wrong with me . . .?"

The Time Lord studied his companion for a moment before questioning, "Amy, how long has it been since we saw Sherlock Holmes?"

"What?" She glanced at him. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"How long, Amy? Give or take?"

"I don't know . . . Probably just about a month."

"A month . . ." His voice was more distant and he was still for a moment. "All right, it's about time I explained what I meant that long month ago. Or, rather, I could show it." He started flipping some switches.

"Doctor, I don't care about that right now! What's wrong with Rory? With _you_?"

"It's nothing worrisome. We're simply linked."

"Linked?" Rory quivered. "To what?"

"To Sherlock Holmes and John Watson."

Before they could ask any more questions, the TARDIS whirred to life and shot through time and space.

()()()

"We're back in London," Amy noted as they stepped out of the TARDIS.

"Parallel universe London," the Doctor advised. "One month later than when we last saw Sherlock Holmes. And there's something that I must show you."

"What's that?" Rory questioned.

The Doctor pointed up at the hospital that was standing before them. They looked up and the sight made their breath catch in their throats. Sherlock Holmes was standing on top of the building, on the edge of the building, right up to the edge . . .

"What is he doing?" Amy whispered.

"Just watch and listen," the Doctor murmured, bringing out a small phone from his pocket.

They watched as Sherlock Holmes took out his own phone, dialing a number as a taxi pulled up a few yards away from them. For a moment the married couple expected Sherlock to be calling the Doctor, but then John Watson got out of the cab and answered the phone. The Doctor pointed his sonic screwdriver at Sherlock, and then slid it to John, then to his own phone. Suddenly their conversation began to play over the speakerphone.

"Isn't this illegal?" Rory murmured. Amy shushed him.

"Hello?" John said through the phone.

"John." Sherlock's voice was quick and precise, yet there was a certain emotion edging up against the word.

"Sherlock, you okay?" John asked as he started walking.

"Turn back and walk back the way you came."

"No, I'm coming in—"

"Just—do as I ask. Please."

Confusion spread across John's face as he slowly turned and walked back the other way. "Where?"

He continued walking, too distracted by the phone call to notice the other three. "Stop there," Sherlock commanded.

"What is he doing?" Amy whispered, looking up at him.

John stopped walking. "Sherlock."

"Okay, now look up. I'm on the rooftop."

The ex-medic turned and his gaze went up. His face paled a little. "Oh God . . ." Amy covered her mouth with her hand at John's tone.

"I-I . . . I can't come down, so we'll just have to do it like this."

"What's going on?"

The detective paused for a moment. "An apology . . . It's all true."

"What?" Both John and Rory said it at the same time. Amy glanced at her husband who looked just as confused.

"Everything they said about me . . . I _invented _Moriarty . . ." He looked over his shoulder for a moment, but whatever he was looking at was out of sight.

"But, Doctor, Moriarty is real in this world, isn't he?" Amy asked, looking over at the Time Lord. The Doctor didn't say anything and just continued to watch with tightened lips.

Rory noted John's completely disbelieving look as he stared up at his friend. Whatever had happened in the last month must've been something bad—something that had made people doubt whether Moriarty was real or not and even had accused Sherlock of inventing him. But it couldn't be . . . That's not how the stories went. _What _was Sherlock doing?

"Why are you saying this?" John breathed.

"I'm a fake." The pain in his voice was obvious and made Amy take a shaky breath.

"This can't be happening," she murmured. She had barely met Sherlock Holmes a month ago and didn't remember the encounter too clearly, but already she was feeling an emotional attachment to him.

John gulped. "Sherlock . . ."

"The newspapers were right all along," Sherlock continued. "I want you to tell Lestrade. I want you to tell Mrs. Hudson. And Molly. In fact, tell anyone who will listen to you . . ." The two companions were too shocked by this confession to wonder who Molly was. "That I invented Moriarty . . . for my own purposes."

John took a deep breath. "Okay, shut up Sherlock. Shut up. The first time we met—the _first time _we met, you knew all about my sister, right?"

"Nobody could be that clever."

"You could," John said matter-of-factly. Amy mumbled it right along with him. It was Rory's turn to look at his wife now.

Sherlock gave a breathy laugh, but John continued to stare with confusion mixed with worry. After what seemed like a very long silence, Sherlock finally said, "I researched you."

Amy and Rory's eyes widened as they continued to stare. John gave him a hard stare of disbelief and denial.

Sherlock added, "When we met I discovered everything I could to impress you." After another pause, like he was searching for the words, "It's just a trick. Just a magic trick."

"That can't be," Rory growled, his voice starting to quiver.

John shook his head. "No . . . All right, stop it now!" He began to walk toward the hospital.

"No, stay exactly where you are!" Sherlock commanded. "Don't move!"

"All right . . ." John muttered, putting his hand up.

Sherlock reached out his own hand like he was trying to reach his friend. "Keep your eyes fixed on me! Please, will you do this for me?"

"Do what . . .?"

"This phone call, it's um . . ." The detective took a breath. "It's my note."

Amy's eyes widened. "No, no, no . . ." Her voice was breathy and faint.

"It's what people do, don't they? . . . Leave a note."

"Leave a note _when?_"

"Goodbye John."

"Nope . . . Don't . . ."

Amy turned to the Doctor. "You can't let this happen."

The Time Lord finally turned his head to look at her. A few more tears had fallen down the side of his face. "I can't help it . . ."

"What are you talking about?" Rory demanded. "You're the Doctor! You're the bloody alien who's 'here to help'!"

The Doctor just shook his head. Amy turned back to see Sherlock discard his phone.

"Sh—Sherlock!" John screamed.

Then the man tipped forward, falling through the air. Amy gave a squeak and turned, burying her head in Rory's chest. He held her close to him protectively but watched with wide eyes as his body disappeared behind the lower building. His eyes squeezed shut when he heard the smack of the body hitting the pavement.

Amy was crying quietly. She didn't understand why. She had only met the man for probably five minutes. That was over a month ago. She'd been around people who had died after knowing them for longer and she hadn't cried so much over them. It almost shamed her to think of it like that.

The Doctor turned silently and walked back into the TARDIS. Rory helped Amy inside, whose sorrow was quickly turning into anger.

"What was _that?_" she demanded, her voice shaking from both anger and sadness. The Doctor didn't say anything as he started up the TARDIS. "I said _what was that?!_" She stormed over and turned him away from the controls and gripped his coat so hard her knuckles were turning white.

"The fall of the great Sherlock Holmes," he murmured, avoiding her gaze.

"That much was obvious," Rory seethed. "But why didn't you _do _anything about it?!"

"I couldn't."

"We know that's not true!" Amy shouted. "You have your TARDIS! You could easily have done something about it!"

Rory chimed in, "And what was that stuff about Moriarty? Sherlock Holmes couldn't have just 'invented' him!"

The Doctor sighed and his head hung.

"You don't even c_are _do you?" The disgust was creeping into Rory's voice. "So many people get killed because of you, get killed even when you could help and you don't even _care!_"

"That's a lie," the Doctor growled, looking up. He walked right up to Rory, right close to his face. His expression was dark and solemn but his eyes were starting to moisten. "I have had people die by monsters' and aliens' hands. I have had people die _for _me, sacrificed themselves _for _me . . . But _these_ are the worst. These are the people I had the _chance _to save, but I knew that I _couldn't._ I couldn't save them both, Rory Williams. Moriarty was up there, on that rooftop, but he was dead during the scene you just saw. You didn't hear the conversation that took place between Sherlock Holmes and James Moriarty beforehand. If Sherlock wasn't to die, then John, along with sweet Mrs. Hudson and hard-working Greg Lestrade would've been killed instead." He turned away, walking back to the controls and letting out a sigh, defeat weighing on his shoulders. "I remember every single face of those whose lives were messed with, either for better or worse . . . by me." He looked over his shoulder. "And I care about each and every one of them very . . . _very _much."

Rory stood silent, watching the Doctor with shock. He hadn't expected such an outburst. Finally he murmured, "Why did Moriarty die . . .?"

"He shot himself. Sherlock had proven that as long as Moriarty was alive, he could save his friends, so that criminal killed himself, forcing Sherlock to take the plunge . . . But he didn't want John to suffer as much so he had tried to convince him that it was a fake, so John wouldn't care as much about Sherlock when it ended . . ." The Doctor sighed and turned away. "But it didn't work. John loves Sherlock too much."

"This link, when we were connected . . ."

"I was connected with Sherlock Holmes and you to John Watson. Amy just reflected the emotions when she saw it happen."

Amy looked a little angered. "You still knew this was going to happen. One month ago you needed to know the date. You needed it to be a month later. You probably knew that you and Rory were linked. You wanted to experience these emotions, but you didn't warn them. You didn't _tell _him what was going to happen so he'd survive!" Tears pricked in her eyes. "You still let him die . . . And you mocked that by telling him you'd explain in one month—when you knew he'd be dead!"

The Doctor looked up and gave a faint smile. "Neither of you read all of the Sherlock Holmes stories, have you?" The couple looked at each other before shaking their heads. He gave a faint laugh.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

"In the stories Sherlock Holmes _fakes _his suicide."

Their jaws dropped. "He _what?_"

"He had to convince John that that he was a fake so it wouldn't hurt so much when he took the plunge. But he couldn't let John know that he was alive until he got rid of the assassins, who would very well kill their three targets if they found out that Sherlock had survived. So he faked his death to save them, but still survived."

"You couldn't have told us this _sooner?!_"

"I thought you knew."

"I was crying my eyes out! Why would I cry if I knew?!"

"I cried."

She was silent for a moment before sighing. "Fine. But . . . how did you know this was going to happen?"

"I had seen it happen already."

"You did?" Rory asked in disbelief.

"I did. It was when I first met Sherlock Holmes . . ."

"Well you still have to explain to him, then. You had promised one month.

He gave a tiny chuckle. "I will, I will . . . But never mind that. My offer to go anywhere still stands!"

Amy sighed. "I just want Sherlock to get a big punch in the face."

The Doctor cracked a smile. "In good time."

"Oh, I'd like to go see that," Rory laughed.

The Doctor smiled. "Then three years ahead we go."

()()()

Sherlock sat on the back steps of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, where most ambulances would arrive with patients. It was out of sight from the public eye and he would hear the wail of sirens beforehand and would hide before anyone could see him.

He sucked in a deep breath through the cigarette, the nicotine satisfying his urges and the smoke polluting his lungs. He had missed this about cigarettes: the way they calm you during frustrating situations.

"Those will kill you, you know." Sherlock flinched and looked toward the voice, afraid he had already been found out about his fake suicide, when he found a familiar man, though without the bow tie. "Although I guess you don't have to worry about that now."

A small smile appeared on his lips. "A month to the day."

"Pardon?"

"It's been exactly one month since I met you."

"But I haven't met you yet. I'm just now meeting you."

Sherlock gave a confused, suspicious look. "I met you exactly one month ago."

The Doctor gave him a curious look before smiling. "Ah, yes, well, that's time travel for you! Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey!"

The detective's confusion didn't lift, but he noticed something. "No companions, I see?"

"That's correct, though I don't know how you knew that I kept companions. Haven't had a companion for ages."

"But . . . you had two companions. A young man and woman."

"Hmm? Well it couldn't possibly have been Rose Tyler and her friend Mickey. I would've remembered if I met you with them! And I doubt it was with Jack either . . ." Suddenly realization sprung across his face. "Oh! I understand now! I must meet you later when I have two new companions; how exciting!"

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "Are you suggesting that you're a time traveler?"

"I am indeed!" He grinned.

The detective gave a small chuckle. "Very well . . . One month ago your future self had promised to explain to me who you were and how you knew who I was . . . and why your companion insisted that I was from a storybook."

"Oh, yes . . . You're Sherlock Holmes."

"I am."

The doctor sighed. "From where I am from . . . and my other companions, apparently . . . is another universe."

"Another universe?"

"Yes. A parallel universe, to be exact. It's a wonder I was even able to cross over here. Well, anyhow . . . In that universe there was a very famous author back way back before what would be this time period named Arthur Conan Doyle. He wrote stories of a detective named Sherlock Holmes and his companion John Watson . . ."

"Ah." Sherlock looked down. "Fascinating . . . And assuming you're telling the truth about this time travel, you must have known about me because you went back in time and met me again, probably by chance."

"I'd say that's correct."

He glanced back up. "Now, tell me who you are. _Doctor._"

"I am the Doctor. I am a Time Lord who has a TARDIS, a machine that can travel through time and space. And . . ." He gave a grin. "I am in need of a companion."

Sherlock gave a surprised look. "Are you suggesting I become your companion?"

"Yes, it is an offer."

Thoughts of consideration ran through his head for a moment before slowly shaking his head. "You are a fascinating person, Doctor, but I must decline. Your companions . . . they seemed very attached. It must be hard to send a companion back home." The Doctor slowly nodded in agreement. "I have a job to do. I must get rid of those assassins. I must get back to John—you won't tell him I'm alive, I hope . . . So I must get back to him as soon as I can. I'm afraid that if I go with you . . . I'll forget about him."

The Doctor smiled. "You really care for him."

"He's my friend. One of my only friends."

The Time Lord nodded. "I understand. That's probably just as well. You see, I left a young girl waiting, promising to be her companion . . . I'm just worried she's a bit too young."

"Who is that?"

"Amy Pond. Cute little thing, but probably no more than seven. I'm afraid she'd get frightened . . . I had told her to wait for me to come back, but with time travel I'm sure that it will be just a few minutes when I finally reappear."

Sherlock thought back to the age of the Amy companion he'd had with him. "How long do you usually have your companions?"

"Oh, no more than a couple years, though I wouldn't keep her around that long; I wouldn't want her parents to miss her childhood."

The detective looked down, giving a knowing smile. "You'd better hurry back, then, Doctor. I wouldn't want you to be late."

* * *

**And thus ends my first Wholock fan fiction! Time really is wibbly-wobbly but I was happy to include a little hint toward the Doctor first meeting Amy. After all, you never do find out what he did while he was away. It was also a lot of fun for me to write Amy and Rory's reactions…Just like real fans watching Reichenbach…Anyhow, please review with your opinion on how the story went. Thank you for reading!**


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